


Comfort And Joy

by LarielRomeniel



Series: Lost And Found [6]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Memories, Past Child Abuse, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 01:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6832873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarielRomeniel/pseuds/LarielRomeniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple gift can have a big impact on the timeline. Captain Canary AU canon divergent after 1x11. "Destiny" never happened here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> JULY 1, 2016: I've been doing some retooling of this fic, partly in honor of the "Christmas in July" celebration on lot_fans.livejournal.com. I'm also adding a little missing canon (Sara's birthday), setting up a smutty follow-up and giving a little more love to Chapter 3, which really suffered because it was finished right after "Destiny."
> 
> So there's not a lot new here, but I hope you will indulge me anyway.
> 
> \---
> 
> ORIGINAL AUTHOR"S NOTE: So why in the world am I writing a Christmas story in May? First, because Laurel asked for it, and didn’t want to wait. And heck. They’re on a time ship. They can have Christmas whenever they want.
> 
> And I know I start this with a common trope; hope I made it different enough. It made me laugh, anyway.
> 
> This is part of the “Lost and Found” series, and comes some time after “Sweet Cravings.”
> 
> DC Entertainment owns LoT, of course.

The enemy fire had been unrelenting, and the pine tree Len and Sara were hiding behind provided barely enough cover. Worse, they were nearly out of ammunition.

Things were looking ugly.

“Any ideas, pretty bird?” Len asked her. 

Sara looked around the battleground. It was only about thirty feet from the tree to the boulder where she could resupply. And it seemed like the barrage was slowing. “Cover me,” she told him. 

She dashed from behind the tree across the frozen ground, just managing to dodge a couple of projectiles along the way. She slid like a base runner behind the boulder, grabbed a snowball, and got on her feet to throw…

And then gaped as Firestorm flashed past the tree where Len was hiding, melting the snow in the branches and sending the snowmelt showering down on Len. Since he didn’t have his parka completely closed, and his hood was down, the chilly water soaked him rather thoroughly. Sara dropped her snowball and covered her mouth to hold back a laugh.

Firestorm landed and split back into Stein and Jax. The younger man immediately crowed, “BOOYAH! We just creamed Captain Cold!" 

“Soaked him would be more accurate, Jefferson,” Stein corrected with a smile.

“Cheating would be even more accurate!” Sara retorted. “Thought you were going to rest your ‘achy old bones,’ Marty!”

“The professor is a sly old devil,” Len said, wiping water from his eyes. “And where the hell was Mick?”

“What! This was supposed to be two-on-two!” Jax exclaimed. “And you say _we_ cheated?”

“Technically, we did cheat, Jax,” Laurel said, emerging from behind the snowdrift where she’d hidden after some vicious throws. “The professor makes three, even if you were merged.” She looked over at Len, whose teeth were starting to chatter. “I think we’d better head back so Len can get some dry clothes.”

“Great idea, counselor,” Len gritted out. “Not a fan of becoming an icicle.”

“Gray, maybe we should merge again, and try to dry him off,” Jax suggested.

Len shook his head as he picked some charred pine needles off his parka. “I’ll pass, thanks. I don’t think barbecue is on the traditional Christmas menu. You got your payback for the Mini Marshmallow Incident, Jax.” He winked at Sara. “So, what happened to Mick, anyway?”

“Um, I might have spotted him hiding and mentioned that there was some really, really good eggnog back in the chalet,” Laurel said, barely containing the laughter that was dancing in her eyes. “With extra bourbon.”

“Excellent strategy, Miss Lance,” Stein complimented her. “Take the most threatening piece off the battlefield.”

“You think _Mick_ is the most threatening one?” Sara asked in a dangerous tone.

“Perhaps I should say the most frightening,” Stein amended, and then thought better of it as she gave him her best glare. “Perhaps I should just stop now. Undoubtedly Captain Hunter can use some assistance with his repairs. He said he would have to do a complete system reboot.”

Rip was actually giving them some R&R while doing a little work that required putting the time ship on solid ground instead of gliding through the temporal zone. Instead of making a unilateral decision about where to do it, he asked the newest member of the team for input.

Laurel wanted Christmas, since she’d missed a few with her sister. And for the Lances, it was a double celebration since Sara was a Christmas baby. Len’s eyes had lit up on learning that, and he became even more pleased when Laurel also requested a white Christmas.

After mildly pointing out that Christmas was a “when,” actually a few thousand “whens,” rather than a “where,” Rip had Gideon set a course. Colorado, Christmas Eve 1986. (“So not really my birthday yet. I wasn’t born until 1987,” Sara observed. “So we’ll have an unbirthday celebration,” Len said, following up with a whisper in her ear about _how_ he intended to celebrate, sending shivers down her spine in anticipation.)

Rip landed the Waverider in a snowy field next to a chalet that was too far off the beaten path to be popular with skiers, although it was fully supplied for visitors and equipped with a generator. The chalet was also far from any local watering holes, and unfortunately, Rip had programmed new protocols to keep anyone from “borrowing” the jump ship without his retina scan. And it was decades too early for Colorado’s legal sources of “Rocky Mountain High. 

It looked like all of them were going have to be good boys and girls on this stop. Well, except for breaking and entering into the chalet. Sara would have felt bad about that, but then she saw the fireplaces and huge, soft four-posters in every bedroom, and the large, deep tubs in every bathroom - which led to more whispered promises from Len about being _very naughty_. After that, she decided Rip had, for once, picked a perfect spot.

While Rip set to work on some delicate aspect of the time drive, Ray and Kendra put themselves in charge of setting up a Christmas tree. Ray used his suit to laser down and carry in a suitable fir, while Kendra fabricated some decorations aboard the Waverider. And Jax, with a too-wide grin, had challenged Len and Sara to the snowball fight that ended with Len looking like a drowned rat.

When they reached the Waverider, Len pressed a quick kiss to her lips and said, “See if Mick’s left any of that bourbon. I’ll be there soon.” He followed Stein into the time ship.

The others entered the chalet, which was filled with the scents of pine needles and cookies baking and the sound of Kendra and Ray singing “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen.” Well, actually, Kendra was _singing_ , in a sweet soprano. Ray was making some noises that he obviously _intended_ to be musical. Any gentlemen listening would have a hard time resting, even with divine help.

Kendra was hanging candy canes on the tree. Ray had strings of popcorn and berries draped over his long arms. “No lights?” Sara asked between verses.

That got them a (merciful) break in Ray’s singing. He shook his head. “Captain’s orders. Rip told us to keep it biodegradable, so we wouldn’t have to do too much cleanup when we leave. We can just drop this in the woods before we take off.”

“Still think we should put candles on it,” Mick rumbled from in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room. He was sprawled over some large throw pillows on the floor.

“Have you ever _seen_ those videos of burning Christmas trees?” Jax asked him incredulously. Mick nodded with some glee in his eyes. Jax shook his head in disgust and turned back to help with the tree. Mick grinned and winked at Laurel, who rolled her eyes before joining the tree-trimming crew.

Sara settled next to Mick. He’d camped out with a pitcher full of eggnog, a bottle of bourbon and a plate full of Christmas cookies. Ray and Kendra had apparently been busy. Now they were starting on “Silent Night,” with Jax and Laurel trying to help drown out Ray’s more sour notes.

She grabbed a cookie before teasing him, “You were supposed to have our backs out there. I thought you were Len’s protector.” She nibbled at the cookie and raised her eyebrows at him.

He smirked and downed another gulp of eggnog. “He hasn’t needed my protection for a long, long time. And it’s too freaking cold outside for me. Better in here, with booze and Christmas cookies. I missed sugary snacks.”

She smiled. He wasn’t the only one who took issue with Gideon’s dietary regimen, even if it was keeping them in peak condition. Then in a low tone that wouldn’t carry across the room, she said, “Len told me just how much you protected him, that first time in Juvie. Not just from the shiv, but…”

Mick grunted in understanding.

Sara put a hand on his shoulder. “I just wanted to thank you for that.”

“I never did hold with people picking on puny kids, and he was puny then. And too pretty for his own good. I don’t hold with rape, either,” he answered, also in a low voice. “Y’know, he never should have been in there. Someone like me, sure. I was already a serial arsonist.” He took another drink and looked at her over his glass, as if to see whether she was shocked. She wasn’t, of course. She’d already met his younger self.

He set his glass down. “Did he ever tell you what he was in for?” When she shook her head, he said again, “He shouldn’t have been in there. Especially not at Christmas." 

Sara frowned a little. She knew Len had been 14 when he first went to Juvie. Her eyes widened as she did the mental math. “You mean, _now_?”

He grunted in affirmation. “Christmas Eve, 1986. He got caught shoplifting. Trying to steal a doll for his sister. One of those, what’d they call ‘em, carrot top, veggie patch…" 

“Cabbage Patch?” Sara asked. Laurel had one of those as a child. Sara hadn’t been big on dolls herself.

Mick nodded. “Yeah, knew it was somethin’ green. He told me his baby sister was five, and the only thing she wanted for Christmas was a Cabbage Patch doll. But they didn’t have money to buy one, so he tried to steal one instead. He got caught and dragged in front of a judge who had it in for crooked cops like his dad. Any other kid would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist, especially at Christmas. But not him. The judge tossed him into Juvie, probably hoping to get back at his dad by getting him raped or killed. I think you already know the rest.”

Sara nodded and sighed at the thought of how many times Len had been let down in his youth by the adults around him. Then Mick spoke again, thoughtfully.

“Y’know, Lisa did end up getting one of those dolls from somebody. It looked a bit like her. I thought it was kind of weird, but she loved it to pieces and dragged it around everywhere.” He poured himself some more eggnog, laced it with some extra bourbon and took another drink with his brow furrowed.

The front door opened. “Mick!” Len called. “You’d better have left some of that bourbon for the rest of us!” He settled in on Sara’s other side as Mick passed the bottle over.

Mick looked thoughtful for a good long time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like back referencing earlier works, and there are several references here to the first in this series, “Little Boy Lost.” If you haven’t read it, please do. It sets up this version of Len & Sara.
> 
> Yeah, shameless self-promotion. I work in TV. Can’t help it. ☺
> 
> And DC still owns Legends of Tomorrow. At least until my takeover plot succeeds.

Len groaned at the knock at the bedroom door, and burrowed deeper under the down-filled duvet. He reached to pull Sara closer to him, and got a handful of damp hair.

There was another knock. With a growl, Len pulled the duvet back down to peer at the fireplace. The fire in it hadn’t died down too far. Between that and Sara’s hair, he figured it hadn’t been that long since he’d carried her to bed after a, well, _stimulating_ soak in the luxurious sunken tub. He was pretty sure he’d just closed his eyes only a minute ago, after putting all that stimulation to _very_ good use. (And putting them on this year’s naughty list for sure.)

At the third knock, Sara growled herself. “Is something bleeding or burning?” she called sleepily.

The bedroom door swung open. “What the hell, Mick?” Len asked when he saw the big man standing there. He glanced to make sure the duvet covered Sara. “We need to talk about boundaries, partner!”

“Later,” Mick replied. “We’ve got somewhere to go, and we don’t have much time. Get dressed.” He scooped Len’s clothing off the floor and tossed it onto the bed.

Len sat up and looked at him curiously. Mick’s eyes were shining eagerly in the firelight. “Are you stoned or something, Mick?” He’d downed several pitchers of that eggnog through the evening, with liberal doses of extra bourbon.

Mick laughed. “Nah. Gideon gave me something to clear the buzz. Rip says no drunk driving on the jump ship.”

Len exchanged a glance with Sara and slid out of the bed to start dressing. He signaled Mick to turn away so Sara could do the same in privacy. (There were some things he was not willing to share with his partner.)

“Let me get this straight, Mick,” Len said slowly as he pulled his jeans on. “Rip is giving you permission to take the jump ship somewhere.” It was a statement, not a question.

“That’s right,” Mick confirmed. “See, I explained to him that there’s something we have to do tonight. Showed him the timeline and he agreed that it’s very important. But we’ve got to go now before it’s too late.”

Fully dressed now, Len and Sara looked at each other again. Then she said, “Go where, Mick?”

Mick turned back to them. “Central City. And we’ve got to get there before sunrise. Grab your coats and come on.”

Len frowned as he and Sara followed Mick down the stairs, outside to the Waverider. “Mick! What makes you think I want to be anywhere near Central City _today_?”

“You get to play Santa,” Mick told him. When Len just stared back, Mick said, “You know, Santa? Jolly old elf, reindeer, breaking and entering to leave stuff instead of taking it?”

Sara snickered at that. But Len was in no mood for jokes. “Mick, you _know_ what today is.”

“I do too,” Sara said, touching his arm, suddenly serious. “Mick told me.” Len’s jaw clenched at that; he’d wanted to tell Sara about it himself.

They reached the entry to the jump ship. Rip was waiting for them, and unlocked the hatch with a retinal scan. “If you will,” he said with a wave of his hand, “the clock is ticking.” He handed Sara a smart phone. “Normal comms are down while Gideon finishes the Waverider’s system reset, but if you need anything you can reach me with this. Primitive tech, but it will do.”

Len entered the jump ship, and stopped when he saw what was sitting on one of the seats.

It was a doll, chubby cheeked and dark haired, with light blue eyes. “That’s Lisa’s doll,” he said, picking it up. Lisa’s doll, but not quite. This one was factory new. Or rather, fabrication room new. He sat down and stared at it, a thirty-year-old mystery now starting to unravel.

“It’s not her doll yet,” Mick said, moving to the pilot’s chair. “That’s why we need to get to Central City. So you can leave it for her.” He shrugged. “You never did know how she got it. Now you do.”

“But you need to leave now,” Rip said.

“I don’t get it, Rip,” Sara said, sitting next to Len. “You’re letting us go? What’s so important about a doll?”

Rip answered, “I can’t say anything without telling Mr. Snart too much about his sister’s future. I’ll leave it to him to tell you about the past, though. I think that will answer your question.” He nodded to them and stepped back from the hatch, allowing it to close while he remained aboard the Waverider.

Mick pushed some buttons and sent the jump ship soaring. “All right. Thirty minutes to Central City.”

Sara repeated, “What’s so important about a doll?”

Len scowled a little. “Didn’t Mick tell you already?”

“I only told her that this was when you landed in Juvie, for trying to shoplift one of those dolls,” Mick said. “The rest of it is your story to tell.”

Sara reached out and wound her fingers around his own, as she always did to let him know he was safe with her. “I want to hear it, _hayati_.”

He gave her hand a squeeze before beginning. “I did six months for that shoplifting rap. When I got home and saw that damned doll, it pissed me off. I figured some charity for convicts’ kids had given it to her, so everything I went through was for _nothing_ ,” he said bitterly. “My mom swore the doll had just appeared in Lisa’s room on Christmas morning. I didn’t believe her, because everything she’d told me all my life turned out to be a disappointment or a lie.”

He looked back at the doll. “But I didn’t stay mad for too long. Lisa loved that doll. This doll. It made her happy, and there wasn’t much in our house to make a little girl happy. So how could I be mad about a doll?”

He smiled a little, remembering when Lisa was so young and untouched. “She carried it just about everywhere. Tried to bring it to school, too, but I told her toys weren’t allowed and that I’d babysit ‘Baby Lisa’ for her.”

He stopped for a moment and inhaled deeply. This was the hard part. “Then when she was seven, Lewis came home again from Iron Heights. I thought he’d been mean before, but it was nothing, _nothing_ compared to what the second sentence did to him. I’d grown taller by then, and I tried to protect Lisa, but I couldn’t always be there. And I wasn’t always fast enough.”

He felt a lump rising in his throat, the way he always did with this particular memory. “One day, when Lisa was just eight years old, she spilled some apple juice onto a bank job plan he’d left on the kitchen table. Lewis grabbed a steak knife and went after her.” He could hear his voice becoming hoarse. “I wasn’t fast enough to stop him. I saw him raise that knife and plunge it down. It went right into her doll, but that’s not what he’d been aiming for.”

Sara made a pained noise in her throat. Len stared down at the doll, and touched its tummy. “The knife went in here, and went all the way through. Lisa got a scratch on her chest, but nothing more than a scratch.”

He stopped and closed his eyes, trying to control the trembling in his voice. Finally he continued, “Lewis… After that first bit of rage, Lewis saw what he had done and tossed the knife away. I wanted to kill him right then. Seventeen and I was ready to murder my father. The monster I thought was my father. But Lisa was screaming and crying and she needed me, more than Lewis needed killing. I patched up ‘Baby Lisa’ for her, but that was the day Lisa outgrew dolls.”

“So this doll saved her life,” Sara said quietly. She touched his face so he would look at her. “ _You_ saved her life.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. He looked at Mick, who’d known the story for years but still looked sick and angry every time he heard it. “How’d you know we’d have to bring this to her? Chronos?”

Mick shook his head. “No, figured it out all on my own after thinking about it today. I used to think that doll was creepy because it looked so much like Lisa. Today, I realized it looked like her because it was a custom job from the fabrication room. Then Gideon confirmed it for me. Guess I am getting smarter,” he said, turning back to the jump ship controls.

Len smiled slightly. “You were never stupid, Mick.”

* * *

 

The stars were still out when they reached Central City. Mick set the jump ship in a park down the street, and told them he’d wait for them.

Sara carried the doll in one arm, and had the other linked through Len’s as they walked toward his home. A couple of houses had Christmas trees shining in their front windows. Not the Snart home. It stood dark and lonely.

A pretty accurate description of his childhood, Len reflected.

He led her around to the back door. The spare key was hidden under the empty flowerpot, as always.

“Kind of obvious hiding place, isn’t it?” Sara asked in surprise.

Len snorted. “The only reason we were never robbed blind was that we never had anything worth stealing.” He opened the door quietly.

The back door took them right into the kitchen. The light over the stove was on. “Mom used to leave little lights on around the house at night,” he whispered. “She was afraid of the dark. And so was Lisa at this age.”

The glow of the stove light showed greasy spatters on the range top, and a small pile of unwashed dishes in the sink. A box of crayons and some papers were scattered over the kitchen table. Len paused to look at them. Childish drawings of Santa Claus, something brown with a red spot that was supposed to be a red-nosed reindeer, a Christmas tree…

He exhaled in surprise when he came across a drawing of two stick figures inside a large red heart, one large, one small. Blue-eyed stick figures holding stick hands. The words “Lisa luvz Lenny” were scrawled across the top in purple. Lisa’s favorite color at this age.

His vision blurred as he stared at it. He’d taught Lisa the alphabet and how to spell their names by this time, but she’d sounded out “loves” all on her own.

He wiped at his eyes and looked at Sara. “Lisa’s room is upstairs.”

She followed him out of the kitchen to the staircase. He looked around at the living room, which had neither Christmas presents nor a tree to put them under. He went up the stairs quietly, being careful to avoid the creaky one eight steps up and pointing the danger out to Sara as well.

The door to Lisa’s room and his parents’ room were cracked open as usual, so their mother could hear Lisa if she cried in the night. Not that Mom ever responded as quickly as Len did from his own room across the hall from Lisa’s.

His bedroom door was wide open. Right now, his younger self was lying awake in Juvie, scared half to death.

Quietly, he pushed Lisa’s door open. A nightlight cast a dim glow across the room. He walked carefully toward her bed, stepping over a small pile of Lego bricks along the way. There was a stack of secondhand Dr. Seuss books on the floor next to the bed. He scooped those up and set them onto the shelf on the nightstand, before kneeling down to look at his baby sister.

She was lying on her side, facing the doorway, snuggled up under what he knew was a purple blanket, even if the dull lighting crushed all the colors in the room down to shades of gray. Her hair was a dark, curling cloud that trailed over her pink pillow. Her face still had all of its baby roundness, and her lips were a rosy pout.

She was sucking her thumb.

Len’s eyes grew misty again. They’d spent the previous summer teaching her not to suck her thumb, but she must have regressed when he was arrested. Mom had never told him.

In a whisper, he said, “I’d forgotten how tiny and… _perfect_ she was at this age, before Lewis...” He shook his head and looked up at Sara, who stood at the end of the bed. “If I could, I’d take her out of here right now and raise her all over again, the right way. Maybe she’d even be able to go to medical school. But if I make her life better, it could destroy the timeline.”

Sara’s expression was sad and sympathetic. She held out the doll. He took it and slid it under the covers. Lisa shifted a little to cuddle the toy, still sucking her thumb, but not waking up. She’d been a heavy sleeper in those days.

He leaned forward to kiss Lisa’s forehead. He froze for a second when he heard a clicking sound, and looked up at Sara. She had Rip’s smart phone in her hand, and had just taken a photo of them. He gave her a slight smile as he stood and took one last look at Lisa. Then he took Sara’s hand, and they quietly left the room, leaving the door cracked open again.

Back in the hallway, he glanced at the other door that was partly closed. He released Sara’s hand and quietly told her, “Give me a minute.” He went to the door and pushed it just slightly more open. 

His mother, the woman he still thought of as his mother despite all he’d learned, was curled up in the bed much the way Lisa had been. Her face still seemed as thin and drawn as it had in that hospital in Keystone City, less than a month ago for him but years before for her. As he studied her quietly, Len realized that she was younger than he was now, but looked so much older from abuse and stress. 

And he was older than she would ever live to be. 

He quietly stepped away from the door and turned back toward the stairs. Sara was standing in the doorway of his room. He knew it wasn’t much to look at: his bed, a dresser, a NASA poster and a model rocket ship he’d gotten from a kind teacher in elementary school. He stepped behind her and whispered, “This is as much as I can handle of the past. Let’s head back.”

He led Sara back downstairs, through the kitchen and down to the jump ship, not looking back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being much longer than I'd anticipated, and I know some of this may have been rough to read. There's one more small bit to come, and I hope it's enough to make things all better.


	3. Chapter 3

The Waverider was in the temporal zone again, system repairs completed, and the Colorado chalet left behind after an impromptu “unbirthday” breakfast celebration for Sara that morning. Their environmentally correct Christmas tree was left in the woods to biodegrade without upsetting the timeline.

Len was relaxing in the room he now shared with Sara, wishing they could have taken that four-poster with them. The future’s idea of a bed felt more like a slab of granite after that soft mattress.

Sara came in and smiled at the photo on the wall display; it was the shot she had taken of Len with Lisa. “I’m glad you like that,” she said.

“I’m glad you took it,” he said. “We never had pictures of ourselves as kids. Lewis wasn’t one to spend money on what he called ‘sentimental crap.’ Not when he could use it to buy beer instead.” He noted she had one hand behind her back. “What are you hiding, Sara?”

Her smile grew wider. “I have a late Christmas present for you.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “We can have Christmas and your birthday whenever we want, Sara.” He swung his legs off the bed and sat up. “In fact, if we have a few of them, then you and I can close our age gap a bit.”

Sara raised an eyebrow back. “I didn’t think you had a problem with that.” Her voice sounded uncertain.

He smiled a little, trying to reassure her. “I guess our little field trip to Central City really drove home to me that I was in Juvie before you were even born,” he replied. “So if you ever think about replacing me with a newer model…” 

She quickly crossed the room to kiss him. “Never,” she said. Then she smirked at him. “Besides, after what you did last night, there’s something to be said for… _experience_.” 

The light in her eye made him wish they were still in that four-poster. He kissed her again, just deeply enough to distract her for a moment as he plucked away the gift she’d been hiding. He pulled away to look at it. “So what do we have here?” 

The package was flat and covered in snowflake-patterned wrapping paper. “Hmmm, too small to be the Mona Lisa,” he said, sliding one long finger under the seam in the paper while Sara climbed up next to him. He had the paper off in a second, and took in a breath of surprise at what was inside.

“I grabbed it on the way out,” Sara told him. “Merry Christmas.”

It was a framed drawing of two stick figures inside a large red heart, one large, one small. Blue-eyed stick figures holding stick hands. The words “Lisa luvz Lenny” scrawled across the top in purple. 

Not the Mona Lisa, but it meant more to him than a masterpiece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jul1 1, 2016 update - So I turned back to this chapter, and added a bit to it that makes me feel a bit better. But that conversation about Lisa will probably wait for another fic. But I'm still planning that smutty follow-up to this, about sunken tubs and four poster beds. :-)
> 
> \--
> 
> Original end note: After 1x15, this was as far as I could get this fic. There is still a conversation I want Len & Sara to have, about what he'd have done if he had taken Lisa with them. But I'm just not up to writing it right now, and I don't want to leave this story languishing. Sorry if the end is a little anticlimactic.


End file.
